Unwanted Attention
by QueenOfTheBrassQuill
Summary: Christine was forced to sing and as a result has involuntarily saved the Paris Opera House’s reputation by covering for Carlotta. Everyone should be thankful, so why is everyone furious at the new prima donna?
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not, I repeat DO NOT own Phantom of the Opera in any way, shape or form…so there!

* * *

Summary: Christine was forced to sing and as a result has involuntarily saved the Paris Opera House's reputation by covering for Carlotta. Everyone should be thankful, so why is everyone furious at the new prima donna?

* * *

_Unwanted Attention_

**TEARS** soaked into her silk pillow. Christine's sobs could be heard throughout the halls of the opera house, but no one came to see her. The wild curls were undone from their pinning, but the new prima donna could care less.

A few weeks before, the previous prima donna, the snobbish and egotistical Carlotta, had stormed out of the Paris Opera House because of "lack of attention" and the "hazardous environment" of the building. Many knew that this was a cover up for the phantom that supposedly lurked in the opera house.

Just minutes after the leading lady bowed out, Madame Giry, the ballet mistress, volunteered Christine to do a trial song for the new managers of the Paris Opera House. Only, Christine wasn't up for it.

As soon as Madame Giry offered for her to sing Carlotta's part, Christine nearly fainted. She didn't want to be put on the spot. She loved being in the ballet and being with her best friend, Meg. It was where she belonged and where she wanted to stay. But the fact that Madame Giry somehow knew that she could sing was the most frightening thing about the whole situation. It made her frightened about what Erik would say.

Everyone waited for her. The managers didn't bother to put on an encouraging smile for her. Rather, they just looked bored and irritated that their first day on the job was already turning out to be such a disaster. The ballet corps and singers looked on with astonishment at Madame Giry's suggestion. Why would she possibly assume that a minor ballerina could sing the soprano's part? What were they missing from all of this? They leaned forward in suspicious anticipation.

Christine stood rooted to the spot, all color leaving her face. Meg looked back and forth between her mother and her best friend, obviously confused. But Madame Giry simply smiled and pulled the hesitant girl forward into the front of the stage. The maestro looked at the simpering girl with frustration for he knew that this would just be a waste of time for them all. He clicked his baton on the stand to get the attention of the snickering orchestra and gave them the cue. The soft music filtered through the air.

It was Christine's cue, but she would not be forced to do anything that she didn't want to do. She cleared her throat, opened her mouth and issued forth the most hideous note that anyone had ever heard in the opera house. She continued to purposefully sing off key and at the wrong tempo, butchering the song. The maestro snorted and cut off the orchestra. The managers threw up their hands at Madame Giry while Christine skirted back to the ranks of the ballerinas, a sigh of relief escaping from her lips.

Madame Giry knew what Christine was trying to do. Carlotta was now gone for most likely an indefinite amount of time and because there was no understudy, the opera house was now in a dangerous position. If there was no prima donna, no one to hold the performances together, than surely they would be doomed. If that was the case, they would lose business which would in turn mean that all of them would probably lose their jobs. It was not an easy situation and Madame Giry wanted to keep her job because it paid well and there were no other opera houses in need of a ballet mistress. She tossed her long braid over her shoulder and strode over to Christine. The ballet mistress forcefully pulled her from the ballet group over to a corner of the stage.

"What do you think you are trying to do Christine? Ruin us, make us a laughing stock? I know you can sing, it is not important as to how I know but I do, so don't try to fool me. Stop being so selfish!" Madame Giry menacingly spewed forth. Christine knew she was stuck.

"But, Madame Giry, I don't want to sing! I'm not trying to be selfish, I love this opera house just as much as you do, but I just can't replace Carlotta. It's not my place to take over from where she left off; I don't want to be forced to sing! I just want to dance and be left unnoticed." Christine started to shake and tears welled in her eyes, but Madame Giry would not take "no" for an answer.

The entire company tried to listen to the conversation as best as they could. The managers pointed to their pocket watches, indicating that they have limited time for this ordeal and would rather be somewhere else. Madame Giry gave them a pained smile and placed the scared Christine onto the front of the stage. She leaned close and hissed into Christine's ear, "Now listen to me. You had better sing the way that I know you can, or you will find yourself on the streets. I won't allow you to be a part of the ballet anymore because of your absolute selfishness. Now stop simpering, you idiot, and sing. Just remember, you won't have to answer to just me if you fail to keep this opera house in business. You will be the cause of all of us being out on the streets and I would much rather you be thrown out than all of us. Do you understand me?" Her fingernails dug into the flesh of Christine's arm making her cry out.

Once more, the maestro cued the orchestra and the managers along with the entire cast listened as Christine belted out the most sincere and beautiful rendition of the aria that they had ever heard. Everyone was stunned into silence at the complete turnaround.

As Christine sang, Madame Giry folded her arms in smug satisfaction for she knew that she had won this part of the battle.

But who is going to win the war?

* * *

*Author's note: I hope that you like where I'm going with this so far. This is a short fic so there's more to come!

Tell me what you think, reviews are appreciated!

~QueenOfTheBrassQuill


	2. Chapter 2

DISCLAIMER: I do not, I repeat DO NOT own Phantom of the Opera in any way, shape or form…so there!

* * *

Summary: Christine was forced to sing and has involuntarily saved the Paris Opera House's reputation by covering for Carlotta as a result. Everyone should be thankful, so why is everyone so mad at the new prima donna?

* * *

_Unwanted Attention_

**AFTER **the rehearsal, all Christine wanted to do was to shut herself up in her barrack and never come out. She couldn't believe that Madame Giry had threatened to throw her out onto the streets. She just didn't want to sing! 'It's too late now. We've already had rehearsal and everyone knows that I can sing the part. I can't back out. Plus, I don't want everyone to lose their hard-earned jobs.' Christine grabbed her hair in frustration. 'Oh god, what will Erik think?'

Meg Giry walked beside her best friend on their way back to the ballet dorms. She could see that Christine was obviously stressed about being put into the spotlight; she knew how shy and modest Christine was. Meg put a comforting arm around the frazzled girl's shoulder.

"Christine, I know you don't want to do it, but you must! You're the best soprano that we have and everyone can attest to that." She chuckled. "Why didn't you tell me you could sing? And I thought best friends told each other everything!"

But the soprano just gave a weak smile and hugged her friend back. "I know, it's just that I didn't want everyone to know. It…it's complicated. It was supposed to be something private." Her shoes shuffled along the dusty floorboards. Meg bit her lip as if trying to hold something back.

"Christine, I'm sorry."

The brunette stopped in her tracks and swiveled her gaze to Meg. Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What could you possibly be sorry for Meg? It's not as if you're the one that put me in this situation."

Meg pulled the girl along, trying to make sure that no one could over hear them. "But that's exactly what I want to apologize for: my mother. We all know how she can behave. She's so thirsty for perfection and keeping that damn job of hers. God, most of the time she has that stupid cane up her ass. And I think that what she did to you was unfair and cruel. She has no right to make you sing if you don't want to. My mother is a cold-hearted bitch; why doesn't all this surprise me?" She shrugged and let out a long breath. Christine gave a small smile and hugged Meg again.

"Like I said, you shouldn't have to be sorry for what your mother did. At least she didn't beat any of us this time. I have welts that haven't healed in months! C'mon, I'm exhausted and I just want this night to be over."

Meg laughed, "I agree!"

The ballerina and the new prima donna made their way back to the barracks for a much deserved rest.

* * *

Madame Giry reclined in her tattered chair, slowly blowing out smoke from her musty cigarette. Soon, her office was consumed with the putrid smoke and the strong scent of flowery incense. The ballet mistress relaxed contentedly, smiling to herself about how she made the little bitch, Christine, finally bend to her wishes. Madame Giry was probably the only one in the company that hated Christine. In truth, Christine was gracious and kind, but the ballet mistress just saw her as plain annoying or "a pebble in one's shoe". Making her take Carlotta's place might just be the ticket to the idiot's own destruction. 'Hmph, the whole damn opera house can thank me for this one. I might just get a bonus for saving their asses.' She lewdly smiled at the thought.

Just as she was drifting off, she heard a loud click. Someone slammed open a door in the room making the thick smoke swirl around lazily. Madame Giry puffed another cloud from her cigarette and readjusted her position in her chair.

"By all means Erik, come right in."

The phantom thrashed his cloak down onto her desk, spilling her papers in the process. He took two long strides around the bureau to the smug ballet mistress and faced her with a look of pure hatred. She smirked and put out her cigarette and once again made herself comfortable. Madame Giry raised one of her thin eyebrows and folded her arms against her chest.

"My dear Erik, so thoughtful of you to see me." She smirked again.

Erik gritted his teeth and lashed out his arm to the ballet mistress. He caught the long braid in his gloved hand and yanked hard. Madame Giry let out a squeal of surprise and nearly fell out of her chair. But she quickly regained her composure and sent a look of lust towards the fuming phantom that still held her hair in his tight grasp. Her eyes grazed over his mysterious white mask with the scars beneath it while her bony hands went to the top of her ragged bodice and began to unbutton them one by one.

"Oh, so it's one of _those_ meetings. Feisty. Why didn't you tell me?" Madame Giry kept unbuttoning until Erik whipped her hair back into her face.

"Cover yourself up you hag! You disgust me, and in more ways than one." She just grinned but left her blouse open.

His deep blue eyes averted her aged chest and instead looked into her cold gray ones. "I thought I told you never to reveal anything. You swore on a threat of torture that you would not betray your promise. And look what you did tonight! I would gladly kill you if for the fact that there is not another half-way decent ballet mistress anywhere in this damned city. But I am warning you, if there is one more slip-up, you will be wishing that you never set foot into my opera house." He slowly walked back to where she was sitting in her chair and grabbed the long braid and started to wind it around her neck. "If you do anything to ever upset Christine or I, you will hang in the rafters and I doubt anyone would care." He gave the extremely tight braid around her neck a couple of tugs while she struggled for breath, although she was perversely enjoying it. Erik grunted and gave the braid a final tug and disappeared.

As soon as the phantom left, Madame Giry clawed at her neck to loosen the braid and coughed repeatedly as she sucked in great gasps of smoky air. Her wrinkled hand came up to the indentation and stroked it lovingly where the phantom had almost strangled her. She took her braid and held it under her nose in an attempt to breathe in the scent of the phantom's leather glove. Once more, she relaxed in her chair, smiling a malicious smile.

* * *

The phantom was absolutely pissed. He couldn't believe that Madame Giry would dare to bring Christine into this whole mess. Sure, Carlotta started it all but there were plenty of other singers that could do a decent job. Why Christine? Of course she had the most unearthly voice that anyone has ever heard, but she was supposed to sing just for him, not the public! Madame Giry was exploiting her and pissing him off to no end. He kicked a wooden doorframe in the hidden passage and laughed as it broke.

His glossy black hair shined in the light of the oil lamps that were flickering in the darkness. He loosened his cravat and rolled up his sleeves; the air was stuffy in the passageways. Erik increased his stride until he came up to what looked like a rather large window. He shoved his cloak, gloves and white mask into a hidden cupboard in the passageway. Being careful not to miss a piece, he peeled off the rubber skin that was adhered to the right side of his face and stored it with the rest of the accessories. The cool night air felt refreshing on the part of Erik's face where it had been covered with the false rubber deformity. He was ready to see Christine.

There was a film of dirt layering the window (actually a one-way mirror) that Erik wiped away with a rag. He could see Christine sleeping on her thin, gray mattress. He tapped gently on the glass and was relieved when she woke up unalarmed. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, smiled and held up one finger to ask for his patience. Erik chuckled and turned around so she could put on her nightgown. Erik waved open the mirror for her. Suddenly, he felt her cool hands on his broad shoulders. The phantom turned around and immediately embraced her.

They glided into the hidden passageway and with a wave of his hand, the mirror slid shut. Once safe from all prying ears, he walked hand in hand with Christine down to his lair. She rested her curly head on his shoulder and looked up into his handsome, youthful face and smiled.

"I'm sure you've heard, Erik. Are you angry with me?" She asked in a small voice, almost afraid of his answer.

The phantom tossed his head back and laughed loud. He threw his arm around her and gave it a squeeze while placing a kiss on the top of her head. "Now why would I be mad at you? You sang like an angel, exactly how I taught you. The only _thing_ that I'm livid at is that damn Madame Giry and the fact that now our secret is exposed. I trusted her and she betrayed me." He gritted his teeth in frustration.

Christine toyed with the lace edges of her white nightgown as they walked down the corridors. "So you told her about my singing? Is that how she knew?"

Erik sighed. "Yes. The only reason I told her is because I was an idiot and let it slip. I was in her office a couple of months ago discussing the chorus when I mentioned that maybe you would be more suitably placed as a singer. Only then was she suspicious and wouldn't let it go. I can't believe that I trusted her, I saw her as a mother figure and now she betrays me!" He ran his hand over his face.

The soprano tried to ease his pain. "But I love being a ballerina! It's what I'm most comfortable at. I'm not in anyone's way and I blend in with all the other dancers. It makes me feel like I fit in and not just with Meg." She looked at Erik with an almost pleading in her eyes, as if that would help fix the current predicament.

He looked at her lovely face and into her dark eyes and sighed again. "I'm so sorry, Christine. I should have been more responsible about the situation. I promise, sweetheart, that I won't mess up again. I can hardly bear the thought of you suffering for this opera house." He looked down in shame.

Christine's heart melted at the sight of the man she loved being so vulnerable. She took hold of his handsome face and lifted it up gently. "Erik, you're only 25 years old. I don't expect you to be my parent and hold my hand everywhere we go. Besides, it's _your_ opera house as far as I, and everyone else, is concerned. Madame Giry be damned." She sighed. "I just wish that she wasn't so malicious for her own cause. I'm scared though. I'm scared of how everything seems to be changing all at once. I don't want things to change, Erik." Christine rested her weary head onto his broad chest.

Erik smiled. He enveloped her into an enormous hug. "I'll try to make the experience of you being the finest prima donna that the opera world has ever seen as painless as possible." They both chuckled.

Christine looked up, "I wouldn't say finest in the whole world, Erik. You're being far too generous."

The phantom smiled at his Christine. "No I'm not."

The couple was alone in the dark tunnel save for the flickering candle light. The teenage prima donna stood on her tiptoes and kissed the phantom with all of her beautiful heart, and he returned the searing kiss with equal passion.

* * *

*Author's note: Not done yet! We haven't even gotten close to the end.

Tell me what you think about the changes that I've made with the characters, and if you like them are not. Reviews are appreciated!

~QueenOfTheBrassQuill


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